


The Visitor

by jackabelle73



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-17 14:04:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16517876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackabelle73/pseuds/jackabelle73
Summary: Set during season 7 and canon divergent after 7x09, "One Little Tear," the episode in which Lucy falls into a coma. As this fic begins, Gideon Gold arrives in Seattle in search of his father. Rumplestiltskin, woken from the curse but still maintaining his cursed persona of Detective Weaver, is having a bad day and has no idea he's about to receive a visitor.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for the Rumbelle Showdown of 2018, so those of you active on Tumblr may have already seen it. I didn't post it here before now because I thought I might rewrite and expand it, but... it's been months and if I haven't done it by now, it's not gonna happen. So I'm posting it as it is. There are five parts and I'll post one part a day till it's done.
> 
> Stories written for the Showdown have to be between 1K -- 1.5K words for each round's entry, and have to include assigned prompts.

Gideon had forgotten how loud this realm was, and how quickly it moved. Everything about it was an assault to his senses, after years in the Enchanted Forest. The cars, the trains, people shouting into their phones on every street corner…. the volume alone was almost enough to make him turn around and go back. He wouldn’t, though. He’d come here for a reason, and he’d see it through, it spite of what he already knew would be vehement objections from Father. The single book he’d brought through the portal with him bore an inscription, telling him to be strong and true. He couldn’t do those things if he hid in the Enchanted Forest while his father was in trouble.

Seattle, Washington wasn’t where he’d expected his locator charm to lead him, but he’d had very little idea what to expect. All he knew was that a curse had swept away everyone in the alternate Enchanted Forest. He might find Father, just to learn that he had no memory of a son. It didn’t matter. Whatever needed doing, he would do it. At the moment, he was simply grateful that years of travel while growing up had made him highly adaptable. He could live in the Land Without Magic; he’d done it before.

He stopped on a street corner, unfolding the map he’d bought and checking the route marked by his blood. He was getting close. With one eye still on the map, he walked till he reached the end of the trail, and looked up to check his surroundings. There was a train station across the street, and a police station adjacent to it. Looking down a small side street, he saw a sign for a bar, and the next two doors on this block seemed to be for a gentlemen’s clothing store and a bookstore.

He debated only a moment before going in the bookstore. Though books had always been more of Mother’s domain, Father had enjoyed them as well. Gideon had always loved returning to the small house at the Edge of Realms during his school breaks, walking into the front room to see them peacefully reading.

He pushed open the door and walked into a cozy, welcoming space. This felt more like someone’s attic than a place of business. Books were stacked haphazardly on the shelves, inviting customers to embark on a treasure hunt and see what they found. The smell of coffee lingered in the air, and from the back of the store he could hear women’s voices chattering.

He glanced down each aisle as he followed the sound of conversation, but the store was sparsely populated. There was only an older man and girl, browsing the children’s books.

Rounding a corner, he found a group of older women next to a small sign announcing that the needlepoint club met here every Wednesday. He was suddenly much more confident about asking for help; little old ladies  _loved_  him. He suppressed the momentary pain that came with remembering Mother, who’d been a little old lady herself by the end.

“Ladies, if I may interrupt your work for a moment. I need help.” He folded his hands, all but bowing to them.

“Oh! Aren’t you handsome?” The lady closest to him laid down her needlework to peer at him through her glasses.

“Looks like a fairy to me,” came the grumbled response from the woman next to her. She spared Gideon a single annoyed glance before her needle resumed its quick movements. “My granddaughter used to watch this awful show, had a fairy looked just like him.”

“Well, my parents always did tell me I was one-quarter fairy,” Gideon said, with what he hoped was a disarming smile.

“Excuse them, please,” said the lady at the center of the group. “I’m the one watching the store today, can I help you find some book in particular?”

“Actually, I came here because I’m looking for someone, and I have reason to believe he came into this shop. I have a picture, if you wouldn’t mind taking a look?”

He pulled the well-worn Polaroid from his bag and handed it over. The shop’s proprietor squinted at the photo for a moment, frowning, then shook her head. It was the lady next to her, leaning to look at the picture over her shoulder, who answered.

“He’s a cop.”

“I’m sorry, did you say a cop? A policeman?” He couldn’t imagine a less likely occupation for Father, even allowing for the possibility of a curse.

“That’s what I said. Police station’s right across the street.”

“Thank you so much, ladies!” Taking his picture back, Gideon bowed to them again and left the store. He was so close to seeing Father again, and the prospect quickened his pace as he crossed the street.

* * *

It was a bad day for the criminal element of Hyperion Heights.

Rumplestiltskin was, quite honestly, sick of inhabiting his Detective Weaver persona. He didn’t feel at home in his own skin; he definitely didn’t feel at home in jeans. Dark Ones didn’t wear jeans. A great-granddaughter that he couldn’t claim as such, was in a coma. His quest to find the Guardian had stalled, thanks to the machinations of Rapunzel, Drizella, and Mother Gothel. The latter’s mocking voice still rang in his ears.  _How is Belle, by the way?_  As if that witch had any right to say her name.

He firmly silenced her voice in his head, telling him that he had a chance to be reunited with Belle if he allied with her. Even if he believed her, he wasn’t willing to pay her price. Gothel could mock Belle’s memory, but couldn’t threaten harm to her. His beloved Gideon was fortunately far away from here, safe in the original Enchanted Forest. Rumplestiltskin was a man with nothing to lose, and a lot of frustration to vent.

The thug expelled the air from his lungs with an  _oof_  when Weaver slammed him against an alley wall but was otherwise quiet.

“Now y’see, I thought I made myself clear. I need you to answer my question. And yet, you’re still not talking.”

“I don’t know nothing!”

“Including proper grammar, apparently.” Holding him in place with a murderous glare, Weaver yanked aside the man’s collar to reveal the Coven tattoo on his chest. “You didn’t get that mark by accident, now did you?”

He flicked open a knife with a practiced move. The tip of the blade skimmed over the tattoo, just enough for the man to feel it.

“No, no, please… I can’t tell you! I mean, I don’t know!”

“You  _will_  tell me, or else I’m going to carve this tattoo from your hide, and take it back to the station for evidence.”

He let the point of the knife pierce the skin, watching the single drop of blood well up. He caught it on the blade and lifted it for the lowlife…. who promptly fainted, his body sliding down the wall.

“Pathetic,” Weaver muttered. “I’d hate to see how you’d handle a real crisis.”

He wiped his knife on the man’s pants, and called a patrol car to come pick him up and haul him to the station. He’d try questioning him again later.

He stalked out of the alley, deciding to return to the station rather than choose another victim to intimidate. Detective Rogers was in the field today, and while he was gone, Weaver wanted another look at that notebook of Eloise Gardner’s.

Cops and criminals alike stepped aside when he entered the police station, instinctively clearing a path for his bad mood. He went straight to Rogers’ desk and jimmied the locked drawer; no one questioned him. Once the notebook was in his hands, he went to the communal break room, addressing the three street cops pouring the sludge that passed for coffee.

“Out,” he said, jerking his head toward the door. “And tell everyone I’m not to be disturbed.”

With the room to himself, he opened the notebook, scouring the words and drawings for any clues that might help him against Gothel and her Coven. He needed them out of the way before he could resume his search for the Guardian. He was halfway through the notebook when a hesitant voice spoke from the door.

“Excuse me, Detective? You have a visitor.”

He turned, a snarled reprimand already forming on his lips, but caught only a glimpse of a police uniform ducking away from the door. They thought they could run, did they? Three quick strides brought him to the doorway, hand already reaching out to snatch his hapless victim back to him as he turned into the hall… and stopped, as he met a pair of bright blue eyes that eclipsed everything else.

_“Belle.”_


	2. Chapter 2

“How… how do you know my name?” Belle asked the man who stared at her.

He was only a few inches taller than herself, wearing the same strange clothes as others she’d seen in her admittedly very brief time in this realm. His brown eyes – which seemed somehow familiar to her – were wide with shock. His only response was a silent opening and closing of his mouth, as he continued to stare. The pallor of his skin concerned her; he looked as if he might faint at any moment.

“So… your name is Belle, then?” he managed at last. “You know who you are?”

“Yes, of course.” What an odd question. “I am Lady Belle of Avonlea.”

“You can’t be,” he muttered.

“But I am. My name is Belle, and I grew up in Avonlea.”

An inscrutable look passed across his face before he asked, “Do you know who I am?”

“I don’t think we’ve met. Have we?” she asked, unsure of herself now. So much had happened to her since leaving her father’s castle, that she might have met him and forgotten. “I was told to ask for Detective Weaver. Are you he?”

“Y–yes.” His answer was hesitant, but she forged ahead.

“Do you know where I can find Rumplestiltskin? I need to find him, and the person who brought me here, said that you would know.”

He hesitated, clearly trying to decide how to answer her.

“I knew him, a long time ago in the Enchanted Forest.”

“I knew him there too…. though not that long ago. Did we meet there, maybe at the Dark Castle? Do I know you?” she asked, because this conversation was truly odd. Her entire day had been odd, and she just wanted for something to make sense.

“No, you don’t know me. But you will.” He straightened, and seem to find some composure. “Why don’t we… step in here and sit down.”

She looked around curiously as he escorted her into the room, noting the table with a book open on it, chairs, and a counter top with various dishes stacked up on it. There was a large white box in the corner, but as for its purpose, she couldn’t hazard a guess. She sat when Weaver pulled out a chair for her, automatically reading the open pages of the book. It’d been so long since she’d held a book in her hands, that she itched to pick this one up and start reading. She only recognized a few runes before Weaver closed the book and set it aside, as if it wasn’t important.

“Why do you need to find Rumplestiltskin?” he asked.

She hesitated, wondering if she should tell him the true story, or just make up a lie about needing to strike a deal with the Dark One. But she looked again into his deep brown eyes, and couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew him, and could trust him. It didn’t matter that she was fairly certain she’d never seen him before. She knew him, in a way that went beyond recognizing his face. So she answered him with the truth.

“He’s… my True Love, and True Loves shouldn’t be separated. We had a misunderstanding and he threw me out, but I know he loves me. We deserve a chance to be together.”

She could still remember that last day at the Dark Castle. Their True Love’s Kiss, and the way she’d watched his face transform before her eyes. His horrible, terrifying anger and the way he’d screamed at her. The moment he’d lied, and said that his power was more important than her.

“Belle, can you tell me how you came to be here?” His next question interrupted her thoughts.

She took a breath, trying to organize her thoughts before speaking.

“I was being held captive in the Evil Queen’s tower. Two hundred and fifty-eight days. I kept a count on the wall. It was lonely in there, but I wasn’t mistreated. The cell was warm enough and the guards brought me regular meals, until a few days ago when they suddenly stopped bringing them, and I couldn’t hear them outside my door. I pounded on the door and called, but no one answered me. I thought I would starve in there, but yesterday, a woman came into my cell with food and said that she could lead me to the Dark One. There were no guards in the hall outside. There was no one anywhere in the castle. We just… walked out.”

“What was this woman’s name?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “She never did tell me.”

“What did she look like?” Weaver asked, leaning forward to hear her answer.

“She had… long blonde hair that was all tangled and matted. She wore layers of dresses and cloaks that seemed all patched together. She smelled like the forest.”

At that, he nodded, as if he actually understood her clumsy description. He sat back, muttering something that sounded like ‘gotcha’ under his breath.

“So you’ve told me how you escaped the Evil Queen’s tower, but how did you get  _here_?” he asked intently.

“I don’t remember exactly,” Belle admitted. “It’s all a bit hazy. I remember the woman took me to her home, and gave me a good meal and a bed to sleep in, then this morning she woke me up and brought me here. We may have gone through a portal? Can portals be in trees?” She rubbed her forehead, trying to massage away the pain that lurked behind her eyes.

“Does your head hurt?” Weaver asked.

“A bit. It’s been bothering me since I woke up this morning. Could I have some water, please?”

“Of course. Forgive me, I should have offered you something sooner. Would you like some tea instead?”

“Water is fine.”

He went to the counter and she heard water running, then he set a ceramic cup before her. It had a picture of a cat on it, and the words  _you’re my purrrson_. She took a long drink, finding the taste of the water to be strange, but not enough to keep her from drinking it all. She lowered the cup to find Weaver studying her.

“Are you hungry?” he asked. She shook her head.

“Not right now. I need to find Rumplestiltskin. I was on my way back to him when the Evil Queen captured me, and I never got the chance to tell him that I forgive him, and that I love him, and I want us to be together. Can you help me?”

He was staring at her again, as if he’d never encountered a creature quite like her. A knock at the door interrupted his daze.

“Must be your day for weird visitors, Weaver. You’ve got another one.”

“Send them away,” he snapped at the woman who’d spoken. “Do you people even understand the meaning of  _do not disturb_?”

“Snap at me if you want, but I think you want to talk to this guy. He says he knows you. Got a picture of the two of you together to prove it.” Weaver gave the woman his undivided attention. “He says his name’s Gideon Gold.”

“Gideon…” Weaver breathed out, before casting a concerned look at Belle. “I need you to stay here. I’ll be right outside the door.”

She nodded uncertainly, and Weaver left the room. She could hear him talking to another man just outside the door, but their voices were only hushed whispers and she couldn’t make out any words. She looked again at that book. With a quick glance at the door, she pulled it to her, riffling through the pages. It seemed to be some sort of journal or sketchbook. All the pages were handwritten and didn’t seem to follow any organization. It was just a lot of random musings. There was a bittersweet poignancy to these glimpses into a stranger’s thoughts.

“Belle?” She looked up at Detective Weaver, who was accompanied this time by a younger, taller man. “This is a friend of mine. He knows all about the Enchanted Forest, and I’m thinking he might be able to help us solve this little mystery of yours.”

“Can you help me find Rumplestiltskin?” Belle asked hopefully.

“I would love to help you find him.” He smiled at her, holding his hand out. “I’m Gideon.”

She shook his hand, and found herself smiling back at him. “Nice to meet you, Gideon. I’ve, umm… I’ve always loved that name.”

“It was a favorite of my mother’s as well,” he said, and his smile was dazzling. “May I join you?”

At her nod, both men sat at the table.

“So, Belle–” Weaver said. “Perhaps you can tell Gideon here what you just told me, about how you came to be here. And we’ll see what we can accomplish together.”


	3. Chapter 3

She wasn’t his mother. Father had been very clear about that.

_“I was holding her hand when she died, son. I felt the last breath leave her body. I felt my heart break. Your mother is gone. I don’t know who this woman is, but she’s not your mother.”_

Rumplestiltskin, the all-powerful Dark One, had tears in his eyes as he relived the last moment of his True Love’s life for their son. And Gideon, unable to bear seeing him so distraught, assured him that he believed him. Of course this mystery woman couldn’t be his mother, and no matter what she said or what happened, Gideon promised to remember that. They didn’t have time for a long conversation, but Father did ask what he’d brought with him in his pack. Then he made a quick phone call to someone named Rogers, before re-entering the room and introducing Gideon to the woman in there.

Now he sat across from her, and she looked eerily like his earliest childhood memories of Mother, only slightly younger. Father said she looked exactly as she had when Belle French first came to live at the Dark Castle. He listened as she recounted her story, and when she was done, Father sat back with his fingers steepled.

“I have an idea, Belle, of how you came to be here and how we can reunite you with Rumplestiltskin. But first, I need to perform some tests to confirm my theory. Would you agree to that?”

“What kind of tests? What would I need to do?” she asked uncertainly.

“I need two drops of blood from you, that’s all. And I’ll need your help,” he said to Gideon.

“Of course, Fa–” He caught himself. “Detective.”

At Father’s nod, Gideon took a box from his pack, one that he’d filled with everything he could think of that he might need on his journey. His mother’s wedding ring, which Father had given to Gideon upon her death, was inside the box, nearly vibrating with the power of True Love. It was the ring that gave the box its own source of magic, even in a realm without any.

“It’s locked with blood magic, and I want you to open it,” he said to Father, handing him the box. He held up a hand, to forestall his protest. “I know you’re wondering. It’s too coincidental, both of us showing up here at the same time. Open the box, and then you’ll know.”

Nodding, Father nicked his thumb with a knife he pulled from his pocket and pressed the resulting drop of blood to the indentation in the box where a key hole would be. There was a brief glow, a click, and the lid opened a crack.

“Thank you, Gideon. That helps set my mind at ease.” With a relieved sigh, he closed the lid again and wiped his blood off with a napkin. He turned to Belle, who had watched all of this without comment, but she clearly had questions. “Please, just humor us for a moment. I promise, answers are coming.”

He held out the knife to her, and she pierced her skin with a wince. She pressed the blood to the same spot that Rumple had used, but nothing happened.

“Am I… doing it wrong?” She picked her thumb up and pressed again.

“No, you’re not,” Gideon said gently, passing the box back to Father and pressing a napkin against her thumb to stop the bleeding. “You just confirmed what we already knew.”

Rumple opened the box again to peruse its contents. A rose with its stem cut short lay on top of multiple bottles of herbs and other potion ingredients.

“What’s this, Gideon?” He lifted it from the box.

“Just a rose,” he answered, carefully not looking at Father as he checked Belle’s thumb. “From… Mother’s….”

“Ahh.” He lifted it to his nose for a moment before setting it aside, and Gideon could see with a single sideways glance how the rose tugged at his emotions.

Belle pulled her hand from Gideon’s, looking put out that her questions weren’t being answered. “What does it prove that I couldn’t open the box?”

“One more test, Belle,” Gideon promised, with his tongue tripping over her given name. He’d never called his mother that, and no matter how many times he reminded himself that she wasn’t… it was so hard to argue with what his eyes told him. “Then we’ll explain, I promise.”

A knock at the door made Father look up from where he was sorting through the various ingredients.

“And there’s the man we need to help us conduct the test. Come on in, Rogers.”

* * *

Rumplestiltskin mentally kicked himself as he left his apartment, where he’d sequestered Belle and Gideon. It was late afternoon, and everyone along the street was closing up shop, but he barely noticed his surroundings.

He should have remembered what had happened between Belle and Hook in the Queen’s tower, and foreseen that the sight of Rogers would likely frighten her. It had taken considerable effort to calm her down, and convince her to trust his partner. Rogers’ presence was essential for the test that Rumple needed to conduct, using several herbs and a single drop of blood from everyone in the room.

The test confirmed what he already knew, the truth that he had guessed because it was the only possible explanation. Armed with that information, he gave Belle the answers he had promised. He told her everything, including his identity, and Gideon’s, and where she’d come from, and then delivered them to a safe location where she could absorb everything.  He swore that he’d be back soon. Right now, he had a certain witch to see.

Gothel smiled when he entered the dusty room, unsurprised by his visit.

“Why did you bring her here?” he asked, without preamble.

“I told you that I could see to your needs,” she reminded him. “And that you would never be reunited with Belle without my help.” She waited, but he said nothing. “You’re welcome.”

“That’s not  _my_  Belle. Do you think I don’t know my own wife?” he asked, furious that she thought his True Love was so easily replaced. “That woman is from the Wish Realm.”

That stymied her for a moment; she hadn’t expected him to figure it out so quickly.

“So what if she is?” she asked, recovering her composure. “You can still start over with her, can’t you? With just a few memories that your wife didn’t have… and from what I hear, you made some mistakes in your marriage. It might be better that this Belle doesn’t remember everything. We can still make a deal, can’t we?”

“Deal?” he asked suspiciously.

“Surely, you remember how to make deals? Or has this magic-less realm drained you of all your Dark One tendencies?”

He let her wait for a moment, although he had no intention of making a deal with her. Let her think that he might, and that she had the upper hand.

“What sort of deal, dearie?” he asked finally.

“I’ve already fulfilled my part. I’ve given you what you wanted most – to be reunited with Belle. I even brought Gideon here, as a bonus. What I want from you in return is simple… take them and leave this town. Go wherever you want, but leave, and don’t come back.”

He nodded as her intentions became clear. “You want me out of the way so you can put your master plan into motion, is that it?”

“Precisely. There’s no reason for you to stay here in Hyperion Heights, not when you can leave with your family and live happily ever after… for the second time. Not many people get a chance like that, you know.”

“True enough,” he acknowledged. “When you said that I should leave with my family, does that include my grandson, and my great-granddaughter? Does it include the people they care for and won’t leave without?”

“Don’t be absurd. I stated my terms. You leave with Belle and Gideon, and you don’t come back.”

“And abandon the rest of my family?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve turned your back on others to further your own indulgent self-interests, would it?” Her self-satisfied smirk widened.

“I’m not that man anymore. Belle… Gideon… they changed me. I won’t leave Henry and Lucy behind to fall victim to your schemes.”

“Too bad… tell me, has Belle complained of a headache?” She raised her brows at him, knowing by his silence that the answer was yes. “By tomorrow, she’ll start feeling nauseous. Soon after that, the pain will become intolerable. Eventually, she’ll die, unless she gets an antidote that only I possess. So your choices are a happily ever after with a healthy Belle, or stay here and watch her die… which is, of course, an option. After all, she’s not your wife. She’s nothing to you.” She paused, enjoying his stormy silence. “It seems… that the Dark One has a decision to make.”


	4. Chapter 4

Belle expected to wake at any moment. Her eyes would open, she’d find herself lying on the hard shelf that passed for a bed in the Queen’s tower prison, and it would take her a moment to realize that it had all been a dream, but it  _must_  be. Too many incredible things had happened to her today, and there had been too many unlikely revelations, for this to be real.

After Weaver – she found it easier to call him Weaver, and he’d agreed – explained everything, her already-aching head started spinning.

This must be a mix-up of some sort, or a fever dream. But how could her imagination have invented all this? Belle wandered through the room as she thought, ending up next to the bookshelf. She ran a finger across the spines, taking comfort from the familiar.

“My mother loved books, too,” Gideon said from behind her. “In fact, I brought her favorite book with me. You might recognize it.”

He left the room and returned with a familiar tome with a blue cover, and Belle couldn’t stop herself from reaching for it. She ran her fingers across the gold-printed letters and looked up at him in awe.

“I haven’t seen this for… well, decades, I suppose.” At the reminder, she shook her head, lowering the book to her lap as she sat down. “I can’t believe that I’ve been in a magic-induced stasis for decades. All this time, Rumple thought I was dead. He’s probably forgotten me by now.”

“Oh, I doubt that.” He sat down next to her. “I’ve witnessed the True Love shared by my parents, for my entire life. A power like that… it transcends realms, time, and even death. We’ll get you back to your Rumplestiltskin, don’t worry.”

“Yes, we will,” Weaver said from behind them. He entered and sat in the adjoining chair. “But first, we have another problem.”

“A bigger problem than crossing realms?” Belle asked.

“A more…  _immediate_  problem. I went to see the woman who brought you here. Her name is Gothel, and she says she’s poisoned you.” At Belle’s gasp, he nodded. “It’s the reason you’ve had a headache all day, and the symptoms will only get worse if left untreated. It could kill you, if we can’t find a cure.”

“Let me guess.” Gideon’s hand found hers as he spoke, offering comfort. “This Gothel has the only cure, and she’s determined to keep it a secret?”

“Yes, and this is one of the times that I hate not having magic,” Weaver muttered. “If we were in the Enchanted Forest, a simple spell would tell me which poison, and I could whip up a cure like that.” He snapped his fingers.

“So then…it’s even more important to get me home!” Belle said. “If I can get back to the Dark Castle, and Rumplestiltskin, he can cure me!”

“And crossing realms still requires magic,” Weaver said patiently.

“Father, if I may? You taught me to always have a contingency plan.”

“You… have a way back,” Weaver realized, with a proud smile at his son.  

“Maybe. I brought a magic bean, but we need something to power it. Are there  _any_  sources of magic in this world?”

“None that I’ve found.”

“Then…” He hesitated, then seemed to decide something. “We’ll have to use Mother’s wedding ring.”

“Gideon… are you sure?”

“What are you talking about?” Belle asked.

Rumple answered her. “The wedding ring that my Belle wore contains magic… True Love magic.”

“The most powerful magic of all,” she smiled.

“Yes. Hypothetically, we can extract that magic and use it to power the bean, so it can open a portal to your realm.”

“Gideon, no!” She turned to him. “I don’t want you to sacrifice your mother’s ring.”

“She believed in True Love. She would want us to help you.”

“But–”

“I’ll still have the ring,” Gideon assured her. “Using the magic contained within won’t destroy the physical object. And I’ll still have her book. Please, Belle. I want to do this… for you, and to honor my mother’s memory.”

She looked across to Weaver, who nodded, and she relaxed.

“Thank you both, for helping me.”

“I have to stay here, and deal with Gothel,” Weaver said. “I think that Gideon should go with you, to ensure you get back safely.”

“Agreed,” Gideon said, and squeezed her hand before letting go. “I’ll get the bean.”

He left the room, and Weaver cleared his throat.

“Belle… it won’t be easy, rebuilding a relationship with your Rumplestiltskin. He had a reason for wanting to keep his power, but it’s his choice to tell you that reason. And… let’s just say that my Belle and I had a lot of turmoil before we figured out how to love each other, without also hurting each other. In the early years of our relationship, it felt like we were jinxed. When we finally figured things out, we had a lifetime of happiness together. It’s worth the struggle, Belle. Remember that, when it’s hard.”

“I will,” she promised. “And I’ll tell him how you helped me. Maybe one day, we can return the favor.”

“Knowing that the two of you are together will be all the thanks I need,” he assured her.

Gideon returned carrying his pack and put  _Her Handsome Hero_  in before tying it closed again.

“I have the bean, and the ring.” He showed them. “Would you like to do the honors, Father?”

“You have a better chance of drawing the magic from the ring, Son. You’re the product of the True Love contained in it.” He reached up to pull Gideon into a hug. “I can’t believe that you just got here, and now you’re leaving again after less than a day.”

“I’ll return if I can, Father. Now that I know where you are, and you’re not cursed… once I’ve delivered Belle to her realm, I’ll come back. I didn’t even get a chance to see the rest of my family. Are they here?”

“Regina’s here, and Henry. They’re safe for now. I would tell you to stay away, where you’ll be safe… but you are your mother’s son, and I know you’ll do exactly as you please.”

“I’ll do the brave thing, Father.”

“Of course.” Weaver gave him a kiss on the forehead before releasing him.

“Ready?” Gideon asked Belle.

“Just a moment.” She hesitated, but stood on her toes to kiss Weaver on the cheek. “Thank you, for everything. I hope you find your Belle again. I hope the two of you will be together forever.”

“Thank you,” he murmured, stepping back.

She nodded to Gideon, who placed the bean and ring in the palm of one hand before covering it with the other and closing his eyes. For a moment, nothing happened, then light glowed from between his clasped fingers. When he opened his fist, the bean emanated a white light. He put the ring – which looked dull now, as if it needed polishing – back in his pocket.

“Ready?” he asked. She took a breath and nodded. “Think about the Dark Castle in your realm,” he instructed, “And when you have the image in your mind, toss the bean.” He handed it to her.

She closed her eyes, picturing the Great Hall with its long table that she’d sat on during many a discussion with Rumple, and his spinning wheel where he sat most nights to produce gold. Her chair by the fireplace where she would sit to read, and the tall windows that she’d uncovered to let in the sunlight before falling into Rumple’s arms.

She opened her eyes and tossed the bean into the center of the room. It never landed on the floor; instead it burst open, creating a portal. Her way home, and back to her True Love. She looked at Gideon, who swept his arm in an  _after you_  gesture. She gave one last smile over her shoulder for Weaver, and stepped into the swirling vortex. She closed her eyes against the dizzying brightness and kept walking. She could sense when she was out of the portal; the air around her felt normal again, and she could hear birdsong. She opened her eyes to find herself on a hill looking down at the Dark Castle. Gideon stepped up beside her.

“It looks exactly like my parents’ castle in their realm,” he commented.

“We’re here. I finally made it back,” she said with wonder.

“Are you ready to see Rumplestiltskin?”

“What if he’s forgotten me?” she asked. “Or he’s still as angry as the day he threw me out?”

“Something tells me that he’ll be overjoyed to see you. No matter what happens, I’ll be beside you. Shall we?”

 _Do the brave thing_ , she recited to herself, as she put one foot in front of the other and started down the hill toward her True Love.


	5. Chapter 5

A sing-song muttering was coming from the corner of the great hall, where a figure hunched at the spinning wheel. She could barely see him in the gloom. The curtains were drawn tight over the windows once more and only a few candles kept the room from absolute darkness.

“Gideon… a little more light, please,” she murmured to him. Additional candles flickered to life around them, showing the wreckage. All of Rumple’s treasures, obtained from the far reaches of the realm, covered the floor in pieces. Glass crunched under their feet as they took a few steps closer to the shadowy figure, but he showed no reaction to their approach. “What’s happened to him?” Belle whispered.

“He lost you,” Gideon said simply. “And his son. The only two people in all the realms that he loved.”

Belle’s heart twisted. As awful as it had been to sit alone in the Queen’s tower for so long, she at least had known her love was alive. She’d held out hope that he might come for her. The man before her now, had had no such hope. How was she to get through to him?

She stepped within arm’s reach of Rumplestiltskin before speaking his name softly.

“Rumple?” No response. He kept turning the wheel with a steady rhythm, gold thread spilling out on the other side. This corner of the hall was filled with piles of the stuff, as if he’d been spinning for months and never bothered to move any of it. “Rumple, it’s me. I’m back.”

“My Belle visits every day,” he whispered. “But she never stays. She’s never real; only imaginary.”

“This time, I’m real,” she promised, sitting on the base of the wheel. Would he remember that she sat there on the day they kissed? “I’ll stay with you.”

“It’s forever, dearie,” he warned, still not looking at her.

“Then I’ll stay with you… forever. Rumple, look at me.”

He turned his head slowly and blinked rapidly as she came into his sight line. “You  _look_  real.”

“I am, Rumple. I’m right here.”

She took both his hands in hers, and he stared down at their joined hands in shock.

“Belle never touches me,” he whispered.

Moving slowly, Belle moved her hands up his arms to his face, to urge it up with light fingertips on his chin.

“Remember the day we kissed? That was the last time I saw you. Do you… want me to kiss you again?”

In answer, he leaned toward her. She closed the last distance between them and pressed her lips to his, her heart pounding and a voice in the back of her mind sending prayers to the gods that this would end differently.

She felt the tingle under her lips and knew without looking that his face was changing. She tried to draw back to see his reaction, but Rumplestiltskin followed her, chasing her lips with his and deepening the kiss. Well, who was she to argue?

It seemed an eternity before they parted and she could finally look at him. A human face looked back at her… Weaver’s face, only with longer hair. Brown eyes blinked rapidly.

“You  _are_  real!”

“Yes!” she laughed. “It seems we… broke your curse.”

“We did?” He held his hands up to the light, studying the hue of his skin. When did it get so bright in here?

She looked around, and found Gideon standing at one of the tall windows, the drapes held open and his back to them. She’d forgotten he was there, but was grateful for his attempt to grant them some privacy.

“Are you… angry?” she asked Rumplestiltskin. “That we broke your curse?”

“No. My reason for needing the curse… no longer exists. It was only a burden to me, giving me an immortal life to spend alone.”

“You’re not alone anymore.” She kissed his palm.

“How are you here, Belle? I thought you were dead.”

“I know. It’s a long story, but I had some help getting here.” She called Gideon’s name and he turned, leaving the drapes open to bathe the spinning wheel in light. “This is Gideon Gold. He and… his father helped me get back to you.”

Rumplestiltskin appraised Gideon, who made a slight bow. “Gideon Gold, I am in your debt.”

“It has been my pleasure,” Gideon assured him. “However, there is still one matter that we need to address.”

“Yes, yes. Take as much gold as you want as payment, and then you can show yourself out, if you don’t mind.” He rubbed a thumb across Belle’s hand. “We have a lot of catching up to do,” he said, and she blushed.

“No, I don’t want payment. You don’t understand. Belle was poisoned, and we counted on your magical skills to cure her.”

Belle gasped. She’d forgotten all about needing a cure, distracted as she’d been. Now that Gideon had reminded her, her headache returned with full force.

“Belle?” Rumplestiltskin asked her. “Is it true?”

“Yes.” She was starting to feel nauseous, though she wasn’t sure if that was the poison itself, or the knowledge of the mistake she’d made. “I need a magical antidote, Rumple.”

He looked down at his human hands in dismay.

“If I may… I have magic, and I’m happy to help,” Gideon offered.

“I still don’t know who you really are, dearie,” Rumplestiltskin said.

“In my realm, I am the son of the Dark One, Rumplestiltskin, and his wife Belle.”

“Impossible,” the Dark One scoffed.

“Rumple…” Belle chided. Gideon was a guest in the Dark Castle, and had helped her get home. Her love wasn’t being very welcoming to him.

“He’s far too tall,” Rumplestiltskin said, defensive.

Belle stifled a laugh. “I saw them do a blood test. And his father looks exactly like you do now, only with shorter hair. I promise you, he’s telling the truth.”

“If I may?” Gideon asked. “I spent a good part of my childhood traveling the realms with my parents. But when we were tired of the constant travel and needed to stay put for a while, we’d usually come back here, to the Dark Castle. My room was the one at the top of the stairs on the second floor, in the east wing. As a child I spent summer nights camping out in the rose garden. And I know all the hiding places and secret passageways in this castle.” He strolled over to the spinning wheel, Rumplestiltskin watching him suspiciously, and lifted the carved top of the post. He pulled out a glass vial and held it up to the light, showing how the magic inside swirled.  “Between my magic and your knowledge, I’m sure we can brew an antidote to cure Belle.”

The headache and queasiness were intensifying, making it difficult to think. “Please let him help, Rumple. I don’t feel well…” Her words trailed off, and as she groped for the rest of what she meant to say, the world went black.

*

“Just a little more, my love. That’s it. That should take care of it.” Something with a faintly smoky taste was being spooned into her mouth, and she swallowed, grimacing at the burn in her throat. “All done. You should be feeling better.”

It took several more deep breaths before she felt confident enough to open her eyes. She was in Rumplestiltskin’s turret where he kept all his potions and other magical supplies. The man himself leaned over her, his worried expression smoothing when she smiled at him.

“I do feel better,” she said, and was able to sit up with his help. Looking around, she saw Gideon standing back against the wall, once again keeping his distance. “You were able to find an antidote, even without your powers, weren’t you?”

“And with the help of your young friend here,” he admitted, standing up with the aid of a staff. Seeing her puzzled look at the staff, he hesitated before saying, “We have a lot to talk about, Belle.”

She nodded, and swung her legs off the bench to stand up.

“If you’re well, I should be going,” Gideon said.

“You’re welcome to stay, if you want to rest a while,” Belle offered. “Jumping realms multiple times in one day must be exhausting.”

“It has been an… eventful day,” he admitted. “But I promised Father I would return if I could find a way back. It might be my last chance to see him.”

He turned away, looking out the window though there was nothing to see. Night had fallen while Belle was unconscious; he couldn’t possibly see past his own reflection in the glass. She held a hand up to Rumple, asking him silently to stay back, and went to stand next to Gideon.

“Your father wants to die, doesn’t he?” she asked softly. “So he can be with your mother again.”

“Yes,” he choked out. Tear tracks shone on his cheeks.

“But then… you’ll be all alone.”

He nodded.

“Gideon… if you ever need a place to rest from your travels, or for any reason, you’re always welcome here.” He looked sideways at her, wiping his face. “I know that it’s a bit confusing. We look like your parents, but we’re not them. I understand if that’s too much for you. But if you need a place to call home, you can always have it here. It’s the least we can do, after what you’ve done for us. Isn’t that right, Rumple?” she raised her voice slightly to ask.

“Of course, my love.”

“Thank you,” Gideon murmured. “Of course, I’m not even sure I can get back. I used the only magic bean I had, and I’m not sure where to find another.”

“If it’s a magic bean you need, why didn’t you say so?” Rumple asked. They both turned to see him rummaging in a box. “Catch, dearie.” He tossed it to Gideon, who caught it and opened his palm to look at the bean, glowing with magic.

“Don’t you need this?” he asked.

“My reason for needing to cross realms… doesn’t exist anymore. And Belle is right. We do owe you. So take it, and please send my thanks to your father.”

Gideon nodded, at a loss for words. Belle stood on her toes and tugged him down to kiss his cheek. “Good luck. And remember what I said.” She backed away, standing with Rumplestiltskin who put his free arm around her waist. She leaned into him as Gideon tossed the bean, and waved a final goodbye as he disappeared into the portal.

They stood in silence for a long moment after the portal closed, before Belle looked up at Rumplestiltskin.

“You said we have a lot to discuss. I think you’re right.”

“How about we talk over a cup of tea, served in a chipped cup?”

Belle smiled, at peace for the first time in a very, very long time. “I think… that I could stay forever for that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end... thanks for reading!


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